dermalhighwayfandomcom-20200214-history
The Dermal Highway
A comprehensive encyclopedia regarding the denizens, creatures, worlds, and stories of the fictional multi-verse known as The Dermal Highway. Nearly three decades in the making, the Dermal Highway is based on the creative writings and interactive-fictions of canth?, known to those near and dear to her as 'The Woman'. In its current incarnation, it exists as the in-character channel #Raptor_Corps and the out-of-character channel #The_Highway on the mirc server Sorcery.net This game has functioned as a stand-alone RPG and, as a group Creative Writing projectproject, has supplimented games as diverse as Dungeons and Dragons, Traveller, ShadowRun, Dark Conspiracy, and White Wolf's World of Darkness games Vampire: The Masquerade, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, and Mage: The Ascension, just to name a few. Complete with a unique system called the Prism, which is a customized two tier D10 approach to conflict resolution, the "Epic Win" or "Epic Fail" system as it has come to be called has attracted many creative minds to participate in stories on, in, under, and about the the Skin of GOD. What is this game about? "I wish...that I could '''really' tell you...'' of all the things that happened to me... and all that I have seen. A world full of people, their hearts full of joy... ...cities of light with no fear of war... ...thousands of creatures with happier lives ...and dreams of a future where they have no need to hate...no need to hide... ...no need to lie." ''-Genesis 'Keep it Dark''' “What is this game about?” This is the single most frequent question we get asked by potential players when they come into our mirc channel. In the past, I have asked my players to write ‘testimonials’ about the Dermal Highway, and what it’s about, so it’s only fair that I, as the storyteller of the channel, do the same. Still, I am challenged to express myself about it. When I think of it, it spreads out across the surface of my mind like duck weed. Like the family LemnaeoideaI, within the ecology of RPG's, this game is a taxonomic mystery. I end up speaking about it in either single snippets, such as the lion's share of the entries in this Wiki, or in the most broad and encompassing terms. Literally... This channel is about The Story. Stories that you, and I, as participants in the Story, tell about The Story. It is a literary existance where Is ''is a noun, and ''Being is a Transitive Verb. Where GOD is an acronym and a participle. Plays on words, Narrative monologues, internal dialogue, scenes without true beginning or end, or even seeming any direction, are all common occurances within the course of this game. Ostensibly, the game is about the activities of A.N.S.W.E.R. in the building and defense of the Dermal Community. The Dermal Community '"This is the world we live in...and these are the hands we're given...use them and let's start trying to make it a place worth living in..."' '-'''Genesis 'Land of Confusion''' Ideally, the Dermal Community would consist of any and all sentient beings inside the organism of GOD itself. However, Reality deviates from the Ideal with depressing regularity. The Dermal Community is a small collective of colonies scattered throughout the tissues of the the YESBeast whose colonists all came from worlds ultimately destroyed by the phenomenon that can be be universally described as The Military-Industrial Complex, a situation inevitably formed once a cellular bloc has been corrupted by the advancing decay of the Rude. Once this entity, identified as in DimIre language as Morphord's Spear, is established, its consolidated power creates a reality climate in which only it can survive, choking out all other systems until a collapse of available resources occurs. Once this happens, the world become torn by endemic inequality, war, famine, and pestilence, which relegates the Mundus Imaginatio ''to generate a ruthless, pitiless struggle to survive that colors all that proceeds from it with bitterness, diminishing the world's biomass through over-harvesting, habitat destruction, theft, and waste, til the very Parama becomes diseased and buckshot with greed, selfishness, and paranoia. Eventually, a critical mass is reached within the Parama, the outer Phitobiotic membranes of the world become compromised, and holes open into any interconnecting Parama, and the whole process begins anew. In this fashion, whole blocs can be devoured. A.N.S.W.E.R. was formed to both gather and protect survivors of such destruction, either escorting them to pre-existing colonies, or helping them form new ones of their own in tissues suited to their survival. The Dermal Community exists sprung from the hope that these survivors can learn from the mistakes made on their homeworlds, and given a new chance and a fresh start, create communities that do not repeat those mistakes, and discover novel ways to achieve NO suppression with their empowerment. ''Mens sana in corpore sano in muneris ut a pacis animus. - '' ''A sound mind in a sound body in service to a peaceful soul. A clip of a typical scene (Author: LordDio. Has been edited of mirc codes for readability.) John Cort had once asked a question the answer to which changed his life forever. He'd sat back and watched one day, watched the numbers slide across the surface of reality like millions of hairs blowing against an unfathomable wind. Discovery of self and integration into the AWE became something akin to astral projection. He'd taken a stroll across the surface of the sun and gazed into a light he didn't know could ever exist. Deep in himself, he found these things possible - in every living thing was the AWE. Magi called it an 'awakening', several called it 'enlightenment', these temporary glances into EVERYTHING, the slightest glimpse of which changed you forever. The knowledge you gained became reality, you became dense with AWE. John likened it to waving your arms around in a pool, watching bubbles of oxygen form in the wake of your presence. The water enveloped you, and at the same time you commanded it, could splash it across a distance, take it into your hand and consume it. Bring it into yourself and make it a part of you. Whilst isolating impossible protein formations on the most improbably viral structure to have ever existed - the very viral structure that was responsible for the death of millions, BILLIONS, and possibly more than that. The numbers weren't all together. Not just yet. John could see it, every time he looked inward, he could see the AWE. Warmth. Impossible understanding. He took little bits at a time and translated it as best he could. Mostly, all he could hear was 'great!' or 'Love you!' Death is the road to AWE. Death is the road to Life. The meeting of all things and all wisdom Experience, young and old; The Path of Excessnd its end in Wisdom. Biological Exhuberance. powerful heartbeat that sent him into hysterics with a mere thought. The epiphany had come to him in a dire moment, and for it he had been sought and hunted by the X. The non-quantity that devoured the numbers. Mathmatical excellence, power beyond compare - knowledge with a measured effect. An unimaginable feat, to take the power of causality, to awaken the AWE within and feel the vibrations of the universe under your finger tips. Cort's conversation with a stuffed bear he'd received as a child had tipped him off that he was no longer anywhere near the proximity of Kansas any more. "How can you talk to me, Roger?" '' The bear's scuffed, wisened eyes never judged, and its voice was soft and gentle. "Because I am real." '' Was it Elijah who had told him 'Ask Why? Exists...' AWE The bear said simple things at first, as though it were slowly learning how to speak, or rather testing the waters to measure John's response. When all that happened was a few fast scribbles onto a note-pad - the bear continued speaking in its sing-song voice. "Believe John." '' ''"I believe in John. John believes in me." '' What is 'real' any way? Ask the Skin Horse. ''Solve for X Mr. Cort '' ''I'd rather Solve for Y, Mr. Messenger. In another place...another time...a Gift Horse dropped its head and touched the forehead of a sleeping child with the tip of its impossible Horn. I AM, the burning bush had told Moses A Horse Not Made of Sand screamed and screamed...weeping across the globe as thermal expansion provided a hideous pathway into the blood of the World, while a Man with a troubled heart wrestled an oil slicked gull into a boat to clean it. The sting of impotence was opening a wound that could not soon heal. Deep Water Horizon. A straight line slashes the Sea The Wounded Man watched with tear-stained eyes as the gull choked on the ichor, eyes swollen and hands dirty from days of endless labor and screaming in the privacy of his hotel room. Something had to pay for it. But GOD does not punish. Where was Justice? Where was the Gavel? Buried. Under the oil soaked corpses here, in the sea. The Black was choking the life out of the previously white bird. And the more Jake fought with it, the more he quickened its demise until it finally collapsed lifeless to the floor of the craft. Where was the justice for the litte things? For the whale sharks? For the krill? For the shrimp? For the fishermen? For the gulls? For the children not yet born? GOD does not punish. Why did they want to kill the Green? Why did they want to pollute the Blue? Jake had no answers. Only a wound, a hole opened by men in an office far away who lined their pockets with gold and contemplated ways to get out of paying for the repairs needed to save the life of the gulf. X Category:Browse